Haircut
by Shakuhachi Jade
Summary: Yugi approached Bakura with caution and ran the comb through his white hair again. Despite Yami's reassurance, he wasn't convinced; Bakura was one moody person he definitely did not want to invoke the wrath of. Darkshipping, YYxYB. Shonen-ai. One-shot.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own Yugioh. This story is freely fan-written for entertainment purposes only.

[A/N: Bakura gets a needed (but much unwanted) haircut. Darkshipping fluff. Very light shonen-ai. Humorous. Please enjoy.]

---;---;---;---

**~Haircut~**

"Bakura, stop your useless bickering and get in the car."

"Have you not realized by now how much I _loathe_ modern contraptions?!"

"You'll have to get used to them eventually." Yami walked around the modern contraption and over to the sidewalk bench where the thief was currently seated. "You'll have to find a way to get yourself to work when you start next month."

"Pha! I'll just slip into the shadows and appear there in half the time it takes that metal death machine."

Yami rolled his eyes. "You can't, Bakura. You know that; it was Seto's one and only condition in getting us our legal documents: we can't use shadow magic if it interferes with our lives in the modern world."

"Who in the wide modern world is going to know though?" Bakura snapped back, narrowing his eyes into dagger-thin slits. "Besides, I don't have to abide by any rules that tight-ass CEO gives me—"

"Yes you do. He could just as easily prove that our documents—which, need I remind you, were created by him—are false, and then you'd be sent to jail."

"And I'd just break out by killing anyone who got in my way with shadow magic! It's not like these mortal prisons can hold a master thief anyway. I've escaped from worse situations..."

Yami barked a laugh at the 'master thief' comment. "You wouldn't get that far; I'd stop you with _my _shadow magic before you even had the chance to think about killing someone."

Bakura looked absolutely adorable when he knew he was cornered. His eyes flew from slits to saucers and you could almost see his snowy mop of hair bristle with agitation. As always, Yami was one step ahead of him in this pointless argument (they'd had the same one thrice before anyway). Bakura persistently argued his side with sadistic fantasies such as ruling the world together with their Egyptian shadow magic, killing people in torturous fashions, and creating anarchy throughout society in general. Yami never lost because he knew the snowy haired thief was full of it; he'd been tamed by the ex-Pharaoh ever since Yami told him he looked cute when he was mad. He also knew that Bakura was never serious in his malicious tendencies. They were just an easy façade for what he was used to.

"Come on," Yami said, pointing to the red door of the 2010 model Toyota Corolla (a gift from Kaiba in promising that they would also use their legal documents to attain jobs). Bakura did not relent from his glaring. "Get in. I'm driving so you have nothing to worry about."

Bakura did a one-eighty with his mood and was suddenly laughing loudly. "Your driving scares me almost as much as getting a…job."

"…Or a haircut?" Yami added with a grin. Bakura's previous mood returned; he growled.

"That doesn't scare me – it pisses me off! I told you I didn't want one."

"Yes, but you _need _one."

"And you think you know what I need?"

"I _am_ your lover…"

Bakura rolled his chocolate eyes and stood, shoving his hands deep into his dark jeans that were heavily shredded in most places. "Don't remind me." There was the slightest hint of a smile at the corner of his curvy lips to show Yami that he didn't mean that.

"Get in," the tri-haired male demanded. "We're late."

"I've always wondered who did _your_ hair…" Bakura murmured as he buckled the seatbelt on the passenger side.

"Who else?" Yami replied with a low chuckle. Bakura didn't think that was very funny, but for some reason the smile that had been nagging him finally broke loose.

---;---

"Yugi?" the thief exclaimed incredulously as they pulled up to the Kame Game shop. "_Yugi_? You brought me to that _brat_ for a haircut?"

"You're a bigger brat than him any day, Bakura. Yes, Yugi cuts my hair twice a month. My coloring is natural, but he keeps his dyed with the same fervor he plays Duel Monsters."

"…I always knew he was gay…" the thief grumbled.

Yami gave him a flat look. "_You're_ gay, Bakura. Gods, would you please stop trying to ruin my mood for ten minutes?"

Bakura grinned. "Should I start counting now?"

"Come on. I'm telling him you want it shaved," Yami said.

Bakura's grin slid sideways. "You wouldn't dare…" But Yami was already out of the car and sprinting towards the door.

The Pharaoh and Yugi were conversing softly when Bakura finally entered the Game Shop. His eyes scanned over the immediate surroundings before finally settling on Yugi's slight frame. "If you cut it shorter than my chin, I'll kill you slowly and very painfully."

"_He doesn't mean that_," Yami whispered. Bakura could plainly hear him, but he refrained from further comment.

Yugi quickly glanced at Yami, and at his nod he told the thief, "Yeah, I know. Yami already said what you wanted."

Bakura sighed, but didn't feel like getting into another 'You don't know what I want/need' argument with his lover. He stood there awkwardly while Yugi blathered on about not having any shampoo and being in a hurry to be at some sort of gaming convention he promised Jou he would attend. Finally he led Yami and Bakura upstairs to the den that obviously sometimes doubled as Yugi's 'salon.' He gestured to a vacant stool. "I heard you're going to work in a restaurant, Bakura. That's great news!"

Bakura rolled his eyes. "Yes, it's _thrilling_. I suppose if one wants to live safely on their own, one must acquire money by _conventional_ means…"

"Indeed," Yami added, helping himself to a seat in an armchair. "We can't very well have any sadistic criminals in our group, _can_ we Bakura?"

Bakura said nothing to that. After a while, the silence started to drag on, making everyone – including Bakura – slightly more uncomfortable than necessary. Yugi coughed, suddenly clearing his throat as he misted water over Bakura's matted, tangled hair, and asked what Yami was going to do for income.

"I've thought about working for Ishizu at the museum. I think I'd enjoy that, and I'm sure she could get me the job."

"You should do it then," Yugi agreed cheerfully. Bakura never understood how his lover's other half could smile so much. If Bakura tried to smile that much, his face would fall off. Frowning was so much more efficient, too.

"I will as soon as I find out what Bakura's general income is going to be."

"OW!!" Bakura suddenly screeched, "What the hell was that?!"

"Sorry," Yugi whispered, backing away from the angry thief and his sudden fuming outrage. "It's tangled…" The temperature in the room dropped drastically in mere seconds, and Bakura's position on the stool went from a slouch to a _crouch_.

Yami stepped in before the situation could get out of hand. He positioned himself in front of Bakura and put his hands over those hunched shoulders. "Be nice." It wasn't a request; it was a demand. Damn Pharaoh seemed to be doing a lot of demandinglately...

"Be _quiet_," Bakura bit back sarcastically.

"No. Stop harassing him or I'll take your attitude back to the apartment where I can punish you properly."

If Bakura was in a _really_ bad mood, the argument would have ended in a shadow game, and that would likely have left Yugi's den-slash-salon in ruins, adding another unneeded expense to Bakura and Yami's already pricey cost of living. Thankfully, Bakura was being sensible today (Yami's crack about punishing him might have had something to do with it, too). He took a single deep breath that left through his nostrils in a _woosh_. The room's temperature eerily returned to normal.

"He won't bother you," Yami instructed, returning to his seat. "Please continue."

"Okay," Yugi said. He approached Bakura with caution and ran the comb through his white hair again, softer this time. Despite Yami's reassurance, he wasn't convinced; Bakura was one moody person he definitely did not want to invoke the wrath of.

After a few more awkward, quiet moments of combing, Yugi had successfully made Bakura look like a wet, bedraggled cat. He took a deep breath much like the thief's and reached over the counter for a pair of barber scissors, then let out his breath in a rush. He would make this quick.

In a flash of falling white hair, Yugi gave Bakura a jagged bob cut that made him look somewhat normal. He framed the thief's thick, clumpy bangs around his face instead of sticking straight towards the sky, and he re-layered the rest to match the new cut. Yami was impressed; Yugi had successfully managed to make Bakura look somewhat more feminine without taking away from his dark, masculine ferocity. The slighter boy still looked toward his dark counterpart for approval, which he gave through an enthusiastic grin. Yugi hesitantly held up a mirror to Bakura's face.

A moment's silence passed, and nothing happened. The look on Bakura's face did not change. The mirror Yugi was still holding took to quivering slightly. Bakura looked at Yugi, then at Yami, then back at Yugi. Finally he announced in a dead tone, "I hate you both _so much_… " and got up and left.

Yugi gulped and sat the mirror back on the counter. When Yami stood from the armchair, he wore a sincere smile. "Thank you, my friend. I promise that means he liked it. I think you know by now what a hard time he has with expressing happiness and gratitude."

"Sure," Yugi said, giving him a raised eyebrow. "I also know that Bakura doesn't joke around unless he's cackling like a maniac. He was serious."

"You're right – he wasn't joking, but what he said wasn't what he meant either."

"Whatever… Um, to make up for it, would you two like to come to the gaming convention with me and Jounouchi?"

Yami shook his head politely. "I'll handle Bakura and his roller-coaster mood swings. After all, _somebody_ has to."

Yugi gave him a suspicious look. "I hope you don't think it's some sort of duty of yours to keep him in check…"

"Of course not!" Yami looked a little taken aback. He _loved_ Bakura. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

"_Yami_, I know who you are...a _Pharaoh_, at heart. You couldn't stand it if you didn't have some sort of ceremonial duties to attend to every day. I really do think you'd enjoy that job, regardless of whether or not you needed the money. It'd take your mind off _him_ for a few days."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that remark about 'ceremonial duties'." The older of the look-alikes, hiding a small smile, turned toward the door, the younger laughing softly as he followed.

While making their way downstairs, Yami pulled something from his back pocket and tried to hand it to Yugi, but the teen shook his head in refusal. "This one's on me. I only cut hair as a hobby anyway."

"If you say so. You're only making those duties harder on me."

"I thought you said you didn't have any duties?"

Yami smiled, returning the money to his pocket. "I did say that."

Yugi scoffed and murmured, "That bastard's rubbed off on you…"

"Hmm, more times than you'd like to know," Yami chuckled.

"TMI, Yami. TMI!"

---;---

The car ride home was especially quiet for some reason. Yami thought it was because Bakura was adjusting to his new, shorter hair. He kept the sun-guard pulled down the whole way back while he stared blankly at himself in the mirror, occasionally shaking his head and hair from side to side. He never said a word though; not happy, and not furious.

"Are you all right?" Yami asked as they approached their apartment.

"Fine," Bakura said flatly once they were parked. He started to open the car door, but Yami placed his hand firmly on Bakura's shoulder.

"Look at me," he demanded, and didn't let go until Bakura complied. "Did you really not want to get a haircut? You seem…upset."

Bakura sighed and stared forward at the dashboard. Yami couldn't read the look on his face. "It's not that. I…do like it… Just seems a little, I don't know…reminiscent?"

Yami's concerned expression burst into a wide Cheshire grin. His lover's eyes narrowed at him. "Huh. You're right, it does. You look positively thiefly. Now come on, let's go take a nap. I've had enough of your mood swings for ten mornings."

"Oh come now, this morning couldn't top _three_! Ten mornings would take a couple of shadow games at least to be up to par with."

"'Up to par'?" Yami snorted, "Since when do you watch golf?"

Bakura flushed and growled at Yami while he dug around in his front pocket for the apartment key. "I _don't_! That's just a phrase I heard from Ryou!"

"I don't believe you, but okay."

"Did we trade souls without my knowing it?"

Yami shook his head. "Not unless the ring's evil has been released again and has taken control of you without your permission."

"Ha! Highly unlikely. "

"Maybe…" Yami yawned. He glanced at Bakura, and found he was right: he saw a face truly reminiscent of his past life in Egypt and all the adventures he'd been through with Bakura. Adversaries. Lovers. They were destined to be together, no matter the circumstances, regardless of personality or family history. Their threads in life were tangled together so closely that they were inseparable now. Their threads were the same.

Later that evening, long after they'd made it to the bed and passed out, Yami awoke from his nap to find Bakura already awake and staring at the ceiling. The ex-Pharaoh rolled over and snuggled up to his thief by wrapping a slender arm around his torso. "Mmm, did you rest well?" he mumbled, his voice hoarse and edged with tiredness.

Bakura nodded, still staring off into nothing. He looked lost deep within his thoughts, like he had earlier when he was staring at his haircut in the car.

"It really does look lovely on you," Yami whispered, closing his eyes again. He vaguely wondered what Bakura was thinking...

It was already dark outside, and who knew what kind of week they were about to have. It could be the apocalypse all over again. Knowing Bakura, he might not keep that job one week, much less long enough to pay the rent. Yami just wasn't up for an all-nighter with that kind of pressure ahead of him, so he drifted off again to the sound and rhythm of Bakura's heart.

He wasn't quite asleep yet when Bakura said softly, "Thank you. I hated the process, but if the end result pleases you, then I'm satisfied as well. My Pharaoh…"

And that night he dreamt of the future.

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[A/N: My stories are starting to sound like blog entries what with me constantly throwing Bakura into my personal experiences, but I kind of like the mundane touch that adds to my style. What do you think? Thank you for reading.]


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